Freedom.

“…and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they’ll never take OUR FREEDOM!”

It’s at this pivotal moment in life that I feel a deep connection with Mel Gibson’s Braveheart/William Wallace. Though I may not be facing down a gigantic army (nor am I Scottish/American or painted blue…), I still realise now that my freedom can no longer be repressed by “our enemies”.

Our enemies are, of course, known as school. That educational place that everybody has such fond memories of. That place which is known by all adolescences as a place of fear and punishment. And that place where parents send us to learn (or so they claim).

I feel a bit mean talking about school in such a derogatory fashion, as I do have some fond memories; such as the friendships that I made… Yeah, that’s actually all I can think of to support the role of school. I suppose if I had to be completely truthful, I would also say that yes, it did impart some knowledge and/or wisdom unto me. But I don’t like to give it credit for that.

However, I am now free! My exams are finished, and I never have to go back and face the trauma ever again. I mean, technically I finished about month ago, but it doesn’t feel like you’re fully free of school until you officially never have to enter the premises ever again. Which I hope I don’t… Unless I apply for University next year, which would be very upsetting.

Fairly sure most of my regular readers (the few that you are) know of my plans to fly off to New Zealand, through a company known as BUNAC (I should really find out what that stands for sometime soon). I’ll be out there for six months, possibly more, depending on whether or not I fall in love with the place. Of course I shall attempt to keep up my blog to the best of my ability, but I was debating starting a third blog (bit excessive, I know, but hey – I like to keep things separate). So yeah, keep an eye out for a link to that which will be focused upon my trip and adventures whilst on the other side of the world.

 

PS. The prospect of a Lord of the Rings tour totally isn’t what sparked my interest about going to New Zealand… Nope nope nope…

Chronophobia

“Not all those who wander are lost.”

That is what I keep telling myself. I find that I’m not sure what I am doing at the moment, as though I am in fact wandering, just like the ¬†Crownless King.

The title of this post refers to a ‘Fear of the Future’. This is a complicated feeling to have, as I find this phobia is very episodic: half the time I feel like hiding away, freezing time in some impossible way; whilst others I feel like embracing the future, my arms spread wide.

Am I lost? No more so than most people my age. True, most are planning on heading off on the conventional route of University for the next few years. Yet I know that that is not the path for me. That is the only definitive thing I know. I’m wandering, searching for what could dictate my life – what could fill the void that is within me.

Nothing interests me. I come from a family brimming with academic success: all my parents (including my step-parents) went to Oxford or Cambridge; my sister is currently studying Physics at Imperial; and then you have me. The one who struggles with the petty subjects he studies, the one who knows that an academic lifestyle is not for him.

So I’m flying off to New Zealand in August. Partly to escape, partly to start afresh. That is the part of the future that I look forward to. But then I think to myself: what next? What happens after I spend six months working in New Zealand? Do I stay there, or do I return to glum old England? This is the part I don’t like: the distant future.

My hope is that inspiration shall strike me whilst I am away. Maybe I’ll fall in love with a job in New Zealand and I’ll never want to leave. Or maybe nothing shall infatuate me, and I shall end up dragging myself back here in depths of despair and hopelessness.

Only the future shall tell. And I wish it wouldn’t.